His Texas Runaway (Men 0f The West Book 41), page 6
part #41 of Men 0f The West Series
“Hello, Chandler,” she said. “I’d love for you to join me.”
He eased down beside her and crossed his ankles out in front of him. “Has Jazelle passed around any drinks yet?” he asked, then before Roslyn could answer, he spotted the housekeeper. “There she comes now. I hope she remembered you can’t have anything with alcohol.”
Roslyn laughed softly. “You do sound like a doctor, Doc.”
Her happy mood was uplifting and he figured he would burst if he didn’t smile back at her. “There’s something about mothers-to-be that brings out my protective nature,” he explained. Then he asked, “You have rosy cheeks tonight—are you feeling stronger?”
“I’m feeling wonderful. Everyone here at the ranch has been so kind. And they won’t allow me to lift a finger. Much more of this and I’ll get to thinking I’m a princess instead of pregnant.”
“Everyone treated Katherine like a princess, too, while she was carrying the twins. And for good reason. She suffered with nausea during the first trimester.”
“I think Katherine could still use a little extra pampering. She’s been chasing the twins around all afternoon.”
Chandler glanced around the room. “I don’t see her or Blake. They must have gone out tonight?”
“Your brother and sister-in-law are upstairs putting the twins to bed,” Jazelle said, answering his question. “They should be down shortly.”
Jazelle lowered the tray in front of them and Chandler pointed to a long-stemmed glass half-full of dark wine. “Is that for me?”
“Just for you, Doc. And the pink glass with ice is for Roslyn. Reeva mixed up ginger ale, cherry syrup and lime juice. It’s one of her specialties.”
“Sounds yummy. Thank you, Jazelle,” Roslyn told her.
Chandler handed the glass with the special concoction to Roslyn and Jazelle moved on to Holt, who’d sunk into an armchair across from them.
“Your bourbon and Coke, Holt,” Jazelle told him. “The best stuff.”
Holt gave her an appreciative grin. “I think we’ll keep you around, Jazelle.”
“Thanks, Holt. It’s good to know my job is secure,” she said drily.
Holt laughed and Jazelle went on her way.
Chandler glanced over to see Roslyn had been taking in the playful exchange between Holt and the housekeeper. “Have you met my brothers yet?” Chandler asked her.
“I met them both early this morning at breakfast. Holt was telling me about one of his mares foaling a colt last night. And I didn’t know that the word colt specifically meant the baby was male. He explained to me that the females are fillies and the males are colts. And then Blake explained the difference between heifers and steers.”
“Our lessons for the day,” Holt said with a grin. “And no, we were both nice. We didn’t call Roslyn a greenhorn.”
Chandler looked at her and wondered what she’d been thinking today about his home and his family. Probably that everything here on Three Rivers seemed big and rowdy and a little too coarse for her taste. Yet the sparkle in her brown eyes seemed to imply she was enjoying herself.
What difference does any of that make, Chandler? The woman is here on a momentary basis. And once she leaves here you’ll never hear or see her again. Just keep that in mind before you let those brown eyes make you a little gaga.
Chandler sipped his wine and tried to shake away the chiding whispers in his head. “Fort Worth is known for being horse and cattle country. I’m surprised you don’t know anything about ranching,” Chandler told her.
“My father is a corporate lawyer,” she explained. “And we’ve always lived in the city. On occasion, I see cowboys around town, but that’s about as close as I’ve ever gotten to a cow or horse. Dad has handled a few cases in the past for wealthy ranchers, but I never met them.”
“All the more reason you should hang around Three Rivers for a while,” Holt suggested with a grin. “You can learn plenty about ranch life around here.”
She appeared to be searching for a reply when Holt’s phone made a chirping noise.
Frowning, he pulled the phone from his shirt pocket. “Excuse me, you two. This message might be important.”
While Holt scanned the text, Chandler turned his attention back to Roslyn. “Did you venture outside today and look around the place?”
She nodded. “I went as far as the front porch and the back patio. It’s all very beautiful, Chandler. And from the front porch, you can see for miles. It’s very different from where I lived. We didn’t have a front porch for sitting and the only thing you can see when you’re standing there are houses around us. Don’t get me wrong. They’re all lavish homes with perfect lawns, but it’s not like seeing the rugged mountains and stretches of desert.”
Chandler wondered what she thought about the stark contrast between Three Rivers and her home back in Fort Worth. Obviously, she’d lived a privileged life, but he also got the feeling that she’d been missing something very important. Otherwise, she would still be there instead of heading to somewhere she’d never seen in California.
“The ranch looks more isolated than it actually is. Joseph and his wife and baby live only a few miles from here on the Bar X Ranch. I wish they were coming to dinner tonight. You would’ve enjoyed meeting them. Tessa is twenty-seven now, I think. Only a couple of years older than you, so I’m sure you’d find things in common to talk about.”
“Katherine mentioned to me that Tessa is originally from a ranching family in Nevada. And how she traveled down here to Arizona on her own,” she replied. “So I guess in a way we do have something in common.”
“Well, I’d say you’re both young, adventurous women.” With an emphasis on the young part, Chandler thought. Roslyn was eleven years younger than him. Some folks would think that many years would create a giant chasm between a man and a woman. Yet strangely, he didn’t feel the gap.
Across from them, Holt slipped the phone back into his pocket and bolted back the last of his drink. “Excuse me, you two. I have to go to the foaling barn.”
“Do you need me?” Chandler asked.
Shaking his head, Holt rose from the chair. “Thanks, brother, but I think I can handle this. Tell Mom I should be back in time to eat. And save a seat next to Roslyn for me,” he added with a wink.
“She wants to enjoy her dinner, brother, not listen to your nonsense.” Chandler grinned, then shooed him onward. “Let me know if you need me at the barn.”
Holt left the den by way of the French doors that opened on to the back patio. Once he was out of sight, Roslyn said, “From what Jazelle and Katherine told me, Holt is crazy about horses.”
“And women. And in that order. The horses come first with Holt and then the women.”
“Hmm. You two men do seem to love your animals,” she said, an impish smile softening her words.
“It’s a cowboy thing,” he jokingly explained. “Did you leave a pet back in Fort Worth?”
Her expression abruptly sobered. “I’ve never had a pet of any kind. Dad always said they were nasty and he didn’t want them around the house.”
With each little revelation she made about her life back in Texas, Chandler was patching together a picture of her father and it wasn’t exactly a pretty one. “What about your mom? She didn’t like animals, either?”
She sighed. “Mom died five years ago. She liked animals, but she was the sort that always went by Dad’s rules. No matter how unduly strict they were. I had friends who had cats and dogs, though, and one had a rabbit named Moe. He was especially sweet.”
Like Chandler, she’d lost a parent, too. But unlike him and his siblings, they’d been left with a parent who made sure each of her children felt loved and happy. In that way, he’d been blessed.
“I’m sorry about your mother,” he said gently. “Were you two close?”
Her eyelids lowered as she took a sip from her glass, but not before Chandler had spotted a flash of pain in her eyes. “She was...very special. She was everything to me.”
The tiny break he heard in her voice was like a punch to his gut. His father had been his hero. Losing him had jerked something out of Chandler that he couldn’t define or explain. How did a man explain a hole that refused to heal?
“Did she have an accident?” Chandler asked.
“No, she suffered through a long battle with leukemia. After she died, the house didn’t seem like a home anymore. Not that it ever was a home like—” she gestured around the room “—you Hollisters have.”
“Thank you. But I don’t want you to be misguided by what you’ve seen last night and today. Things aren’t always rosy around here. We have our problems—like all families do.”
“Everyone has problems.” She gave him a wan smile. “But I have the feeling that you Hollisters deal with your problems together.”
And she didn’t have that togetherness. Was that what she was trying to tell him? That, except for a rigid father, she was all alone?
Well, hell, Chandler. The answer to that is pretty obvious, isn’t it? She’s alone and intent on traveling to any place she thinks she can make herself a happier place to live.
The monologue going off in his head was too sad to ponder and he joked in an effort to lighten the moment. “Yes, put that way I guess we do. But the disagreements can get loud at times.”
She chuckled. “I’m willing to bet as kids that you and your brothers got into some pretty rowdy scuffles.”
“Well, Blake was never a hothead and Joseph was the baby of us boys, so those two were rarely in on the fisticuffs. But Holt and I would go at it. When that happened Dad would usually let us fight to the finish. But Mom was a different matter. She’d break us apart and send us to our rooms to let us stew over our behavior.” He glanced up just in time to see Maureen entering the room. “Speaking of Mom, here she comes. Let’s hope she’s going to tell us dinner is ready. I’m so hungry I could gnaw on a piece of raw macaroni.”
Laughing, Roslyn laid a hand on his forearm. “I wouldn’t advise that, Chandler. You might choke.”
He tried not to notice that she was touching him. After all, it was just casual contact that meant nothing. And yet the warmth of her hand sent an unexpected spurt of pleasure through him.
“Dinner is ready,” Maureen called out.
Chandler rose from the couch, then offered his hand down to Roslyn. “Let’s go eat, shall we?”
Roslyn took his hand and once he’d gently pulled her to her feet, she didn’t hesitate to wrap her arm through his. The gesture reminded him that he was more than an overworked veterinarian. He was a man who’d gone a very long time without the company of a woman.
“I’m looking forward to every bite,” she assured him. Then, using her free hand, she patted the top of her belly. “And I’m sure Baby is, too. Years from now, I’ll be sure and tell him that he once had dinner on a real Arizona ranch.”
And years from now Chandler would still remember this beautiful pregnant stranger, who’d stopped on his doorstep long enough to carve a little niche in his heart.
* * *
Later that evening, after everyone retired to the den for coffee and dessert, Chandler and Blake were discussing vaccination schedules when Maureen crossed the room and clamped a hold on Chandler’s arm.
She said, “Sorry to interrupt you two, but I need to speak with you, Chandler. Alone, in my office.”
Blake waggled his eyebrows in a teasing manner. “Better watch out, brother,” he warned. “Mom’s sounding like a school principal.”
He winked at his brother. “If you hear me yelling, better come to my rescue, Blake,”
“Oh, bull,” Maureen scolded the two men. “I don’t have my dander up. At least, not tonight. I just want Chandler’s ear for a few minutes.”
“Sure, Mom. Lead the way.”
He followed his mother out of the den and down the wide hallway to a study that used to serve as his father’s office. After Joel’s death, Maureen had taken over the chore of balancing the books for the ranch house, along with the bunkhouse expenditures. As for the bulk of the paperwork associated with the business end of the ranch, Blake and his secretary handled that monumental task in his office, which was located down at the ranch yard.
“I’m sorry to pull you away from your brother,” Maureen said as the two of them entered the office. “I realize you two don’t get enough time with each other. So I’ll try to keep this short.”
Most of the space inside the long, narrow room was taken up with a large mahogany desk with an executive chair, two heavy wooden chairs, a set of filing cabinets and shelves jammed with an array of books and folders. While his father had been alive, the room had always held the scents of leather and strong coffee. But now that his mother had taken over the space, that had changed to a mixture of lemon furniture polish and juniper.
She switched on a banker’s lamp on the desk, then looked at him pointedly. “Just how much do you care about Roslyn DuBose?”
The blunt question had Chandler staring at her in disbelief and he tried not to stutter. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about our houseguest. I want to know what you think about her.”
For his mother’s sake, he bit back the curse word on the end of his tongue. “Great balls of fire, Mom! I only met her last night.”
“Yes. And you brought her home with you.”
“Because she needed help,” he reasoned.
“There are plenty of people around Wickenburg who need help. You don’t bring any of them home with you.”
Chandler thought he’d quit blushing years ago. Leave it to his mother to bring a shade of red to his face.
“All right, Mom, I get your point. But when I first discovered Roslyn in her car, the situation was a bit urgent. All in all, I didn’t want her going off on her own and having another fainting spell.”
Her sigh was a sound of impatience. “I’m hardly chiding you about this, son. I’m trying to gauge your feelings about her, that’s all.”
Why was his mother persisting about his feelings? Where Roslyn was concerned he didn’t have any. Except for caring about her general well-being.
Liar. Liar. You’ve enjoyed every second you’ve spent in Roslyn’s company. All day today, she’s occupied your thoughts. You’ve been dreading her leaving and wondering how you’re going to forget her once she’s gone.
The reproachful voice in his head made him want to groan out loud. “Look, Mom, Roslyn is fine now—at least, physically. And you heard her say during dinner that she plans to leave in the morning. So she’ll be out of your hair soon.”
The grimace on Maureen’s face said he’d clearly disappointed her. “Chandler, I ought to give you a swift kick in the ass.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Why? What have I done?”
“You’re assuming that I want Roslyn to leave.”
Chandler made an openhanded gesture. “Don’t you?”
She frowned at him. “Absolutely not. The girl needs us. In so many ways.”
Chandler’s mind began to spin. “Oh, now, Mom, I don’t know exactly what you have on your mind, but Roslyn isn’t your responsibility, or mine.”
She eased a hip onto the corner of her desk and pierced him with a thoughtful gaze. “You’re right. She isn’t. At her age and single, she isn’t anybody’s responsibility. But I thought...well, we have plenty of extra room. And Reeva throws out enough food to feed three or four more people. It wouldn’t hurt to ask her to stay on with us for a while—at least, until she has the baby.”
Stay until she gave birth? But that would be days, weeks even, Chandler thought. By then she would be starting to feel like family. By then, the tender, protective feeling he got whenever he was near her might turn into something more serious. Something that could wind up being very painful.
“Mom, she’s a stranger. We don’t know her. Not really. Maybe this is what she had planned all along. Maybe she’d heard about the Hollisters and deliberately parked at the clinic last night just as a way to get her foot in the door.”
Her expression suddenly sheepish, Maureen nodded. “God forgive me, but those same concerns crossed my mind. That why—this morning I did some checking up. Or let’s just say I had someone do some checking for me.”
Chandler was surprised. Normally his mother was far too trusting. “You didn’t call her father directly, did you?”
“No. Nothing like that. I just wanted to make sure that Martin DuBose existed and that Roslyn’s story was true.”
Just thinking that Roslyn might not be truthful made Chandler feel like a heel. “And?”
“Everything she’s told us checked out. And from what my source told me, the old man is known as a real cold codger.”
It was a relief to hear Roslyn had been honest with them, yet it was sad, too. She didn’t deserve that kind of father.
He said, “Well, obviously she isn’t lacking money. I believe right now she’s trying to get over the mistake she made with the baby’s father. And she’s longing for a place to call home. That’s what I’m thinking.”
“A home is exactly what she needs for herself and the baby—whenever it arrives.” Her expression rueful, she asked, “Did you know her mother died?”
“Yes. She told me.” Chandler shook his head. “And I can see, when she mentions her father—there’s a look on her face that is so full of anguish and resentment I know it can’t be an act.”
Maureen smiled gently. “There’s a look on your face, too, whenever you’re near her.”
Chandler let out a short laugh to cover his awkwardness. “Mom, you’re all wrong. Sure, she’s pretty. And I like her—a lot. But that’s all. For Pete’s sake, she’s going to have a baby.”
